


Run Your Fingers Through My Hair, And Cuddle Me Real Tight

by The_Fannish_Imposition



Series: That's The Sweet Touch Of Love [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 80s Fantasy Movie References, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gag Gifts, Is This Praise Kink Or Body Worship?, Jordan Parrish - minor, M/M, Mild body image issues, POV Alternating, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Fluff, The Penises Definitely Touch In This One, Valentine's Day, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fannish_Imposition/pseuds/The_Fannish_Imposition
Summary: Noah and Peter celebrate Valentine's Day with some affectionate trolling, before indulging in some porny feels
Relationships: Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski
Series: That's The Sweet Touch Of Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081673
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, yes, I realize Valentine's Day was like a week ago, but between a failing laptop battery and back to back snow storms, finding time for writing has been somewhat difficult. But I hope you guys enjoy this one anyway. :D
> 
> This was meant to just be a cute story of them finding stupid gifts for each other, then my brain suddenly took a sharp left turn into FEELS.
> 
> POV is alternating, but hopefully clear and easily followed. Though, like all my stuff, this, too, is unbeta'd.

Noah resisted the urge to start banging his head against his desk, but only barely. Councilwoman Jenkins was generally a very nice, cheerful person, but Lord could she talk the hind legs off the proverbial donkey. He’d been stuck listening to her various fundraising suggestions for more than forty minutes now, with no end in sight. The light from the front desk phone had been blinking for almost fifteen of those minutes, but Noah hadn’t managed to get a word in edgewise to switch over and find out what they needed.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered for what felt like the thousandth time, in an attempt to prove he was listening.

The hand not holding the phone was pinching tightly between his eyes in a likely vain effort to ward off a headache. When Parrish knocked loudly enough on the door frame to startle her into momentary silence, Noah leapt at his chance, so grateful he could almost cry.

“I’m so very sorry, but something’s come up here that they need my assistance with. You know how it goes.”

“Oh I very much do, Sheriff. Well then, I’ll let you get back to things. Make sure you give my ideas some thought, now.”

“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll be sure to do that. You have a nice day, now.”

“You, too Sheriff. Stay safe out there.”

After a couple of last exchanges of niceties, he finally, FINALLY, got her to hang up, and looked up to meet Jordan’s deeply amused stare. He raised an eyebrow at the deputy, who straightened up a bit and tried (and failed) to smooth his features into something more neutral. Noah just shook his head.

“You know what? I’m too grateful for the interruption to care right now. What did you need, Deputy?”

“Just dropping off a delivery, Sir.” The amused look came roaring back. “Meyers got tired of trying to beep in, so she sent me with it instead.”

Noah felt oddly wary for no good reason. “Okay…?”

Leaning up from his casual slouch against the door, Jordan brought his hand out from behind his back, bearing a brightly colored bouquet in one of the cheesiest looking vases Noah had ever had the misfortune to see. A heavily detailed and engraved brass cowboy boot, with glued on (multi-colored, of course) beaded teal suede fringe and matching spur harness, it had a highly polished Old West-style Sheriff’s badge pointedly pinning a small envelope along the side of the harness straps. The bouquet it held, by contrast, was gorgeous; frilled tulips and fragrant lilies bursting forth in vibrant shades of scarlet, woven through here and there with sprays of tiny white jasmine. Jordan sat it down with a thud at the edge of Noah’s desk, the beads clacking dully together as they settled. That accomplished, he stepped back and stood at attention, still smirking lightly as his boss stared blankly at the flowers. After a couple minutes of silence, Noah blinked up at him.

“Was there anything else, Deputy Parrish?”

“Not unless you’re planning to open the card, Sir. There’s a bit of a bet going on who it’s from.”

“We both already know who it’s going to be from, and I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.” The _“or I can find you some”_ was heavily implied, if unspoken. “That’ll be all, Deputy.”

“Yes, sir.” With a last grin and a nod, he turned and headed back towards the bullpen.

“And you can close the door as you go, too,” Noah added.

“Yes, sir.” The blinds bounced lightly off the window as the door latched behind him. Noah resisted the urge to get up and lock it as well.

Allowing a few minutes for the more curious types to drift back to their desks, he reached out and pulled the vase closer. The deep red blooms really were beautiful, the petals alternately velvet soft and silky smooth beneath his fingers as he reached up to run a gentle hand along them. Pulling one of the tulips a bit closer, he took a deep breath, letting the sense of nostalgia its scent invoked wash over him briefly. His mother had always loved them, and there’d been an ever-changing assortment of them in front of their house as he’d grown up. The memories of helping her with them were some of the few untainted by the shadow of his father. And, well, he’d always found lilies pretty, and somehow cheerful. ( _Part of him hadn’t really expected Peter to remember that particular conversation, but he really should have known better._ )

If Noah had been at all concerned about getting caught in any lingering maudlin thoughts, however, the card, and the gift accompanying it, assured him that that wouldn’t be an issue. Deftly removing the little tin star, he slid the envelope free and pinned it back into place (it went so well with the overall aesthetic, after all.) There was no name or anything on the outside of the envelope itself, and when he flipped it around to tear it open, he felt something inside shift with a faint clinking sound. He tugged out the card with a certain amount of caution. It was a single flat sheet, bearing a message written in a very familiar scrawl:

_Of all the assholes in the world, you are by far my favorite. Happy Valentine’s Day. <3 _

There was no signature (but then he really didn’t need one.) He felt a grudgingly amused and obnoxiously fond smile stretching unchecked across his face as he set the card aside to investigate the other contents of the envelope. It was a small set of keychains, strung on a single large ring. Two of them were thin metal rectangles with messages etched into one side. Reading over them, he let out a hastily muffled snort of laughter, shoulders shaking.

The first one bore the neatly typed sentiment: _I hope your day is as nice as my ass._

While the second just had a casual scribble of: _Thanks for all the orgasms! <3_

Accompanying the two was a tiny pair of charms; a paw print and a triskele (Noah vaguely wondered where Peter had even found that one.) Once he finally got his laughter under control, he hunted out his personal set of keys (wouldn’t want to accidentally grab the work keys after all), and added them to it. Just as he got them tucked back away, his cell phone pinged with an incoming text. It was from the front desk clerk at Peter’s building, and just said _‘Package delivered’_ , with a little peace sign emoji at the end.

Noah smirked faintly to himself, wishing he could be there to see Peter’s reaction when he actually opened it, but still very much looking forward to seeing what kind of reception awaited him after work. With another deep sniff of the brilliant blossoms, he pulled over the most recent stack of papers needing his approval, and attempted to make himself focus on work for the remainder of his shift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter grinned down at the text from the florist, informing him that his order had been dropped off. He very much wished he could see Noah’s face (not to mention those of the rest of the station), but figured he could always badger Jordan about it later, if nothing else. Sliding his phone away, he ducked through the front doors and headed towards the elevators, only to hear someone calling his name.

Glancing over, he saw Casey, the younger of the two clerks currently on duty, waving somewhat frantically at him, a wide smile plastered across their face. Warily approaching the desk, he suddenly found a large gift bag being thrust into his hands. It was horrifically gaudy, its surface liberally splashed with huge red dahlias (and if that was glitter he saw he might have to actually kill Noah.) He knew it had to be from his boyfriend, Casey wouldn’t be this excited otherwise. They’d had a bit of a case of hero worship ever since Noah had managed to help them with a mugging incident a few months back, and apparently they found the two of them, quote “absolutely _adorable_ ” together. With a shake of his head, Peter offered a polite thanks and made another attempt at the elevators.

As he waited out what now felt like the longest ride ever, he puzzled over what could be in the bag. It was heavier than he would have expected, but not terribly so. Whatever it was, he hoped Noah hadn’t gone _too_ overboard. Especially since they’d both agreed on just a night in watching movies (and no gifts), neither being a particularly great fan of the holiday. (Okay, yes, he’d sent the flowers, but those didn’t really count, as far as Peter was concerned, it was just a fancy way of sending a card, really.) Finally arriving at his floor, he let himself in and headed straight for the kitchen island (it was closer than the dining table after all) to find out just how irritated he was going to be.

Examining the outside of the bag, he was relieved to see that the glitter was actually printed into the ink, and not something that would get all over every surface of his apartment. Cautiously opening the bag, he found an envelope taped to the top of one side. He popped it free and removed the card, staring down at it in bemusement for a moment as he sternly told himself he wasn’t going to laugh. A cartoon wolf was draped indolently over a large flocked red heart, staring out over it’s shoulder with smoldering bedroom eyes. Surrounding the ...artwork… was the phrase: “ _I’ve Taken A Lycan To You_ ” in matching red flocking. Biting his lip to contain the smile he couldn’t seem to suppress, he opened the card to see just how much worse it could get. Thankfully, the inside contained only a handwritten note from his boyfriend:

_Don’t even pretend that you’re upset that I got you something. It popped up in an ad while I was looking for something else, and I couldn’t resist. And yes, in case you’re curious,_ _they are_ _, in fact, a moon bear._

_-Noah_

_XO_

Now even more nervous of just what he might find in the bag, Peter slowly removed the layers of red and white tissue paper that still hid his ‘gift’ from sight. Reaching in, he pulled out what was indeed a teddy bear, at least a foot tall seated, and likely a rather expensive one from the look and feel of it. (He thought it might be one of the Vermont style ones? He wasn’t certain, but his aunt had had an extensive collection of them once upon a time, and this one seemed remarkably similar to the ones he recalled.) It was covered in an almost ridiculously soft black-brown fur, with a lighter, vaguely crescent-shaped patch at the top of its chest to indicate its purported species, and was holding a red velour heart. When he looked at the writing embroidered on the heart in snowy white thread, he completely lost the battle he’d been fighting against his amusement. Neatly hand-stitched in elegant, flowing script were the words: “ _I Can Bear-ly Contain Myself Around You(_ ~~ _r Ass_~~ _)_ ”. Bright, raucous laughter echoed through the space as Peter sat the bear down and dropped his face into his hand. His boyfriend really was utterly ridiculous. (God he loved him so much.)

After almost a solid minute, and a couple deep breaths, he finally managed to get himself under tentative control. Wiping the moisture from his eyes, he grabbed the bag to check that there was nothing else in it, deliberately averting his gaze from the bear and the card lest they set him off again. The only other item he found was a Reese’s heart easily the size of his palm at the very bottom of the bag, and at this point the smile lighting up his face was so wide it was bordering on painful. He was deeply grateful that no one was here to witness the spectacle, it would have absolutely destroyed his reputation. Setting down the heart next to the bear, he glanced over at the clock on the stove, noting that he still had at least a couple of hours before Noah would be back from work. He cast his gaze around the room as he debated how best to ~~pass the~~ utilize his remaining free time, one hand absently reaching out to stroke over the bear’s plush fur. When his eyes landed on the growing collection of cookbooks on the far counter, he began to get a glimmer of an idea. _Ah, what the hell? They’d need snacks for the movies, anyway…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Noah carefully (and at least decently skillfully) navigated opening the penthouse door without dropping either the vase full of flowers or his work bag, the newest additions to his keyring clanking lightly against their fellows. He thunked the vase down on the hall table while he ducked into Peter’s home office to store his service weapon and the files he’d brought to work on tomorrow, calling out an absent greeting.

“Hey, Peter, I’m home!”

“Good. I was beginning to think you’d agreed to an extra shift again.”

Noah rolled his eyes at the snarky reply that echoed from the direction of the couch. He hung up his jacket in the hall and grabbed the flowers as he passed, placing them very strategically in the center of the island. The garish vase looked even more out of place amid Peter’s elegant, stream-lined décor.

“Well you see, I somehow ended up with about twenty pounds of unexpected brass to haul back with me, so it slowed my progress a bit. Apologies if you ended up lonely during the unplanned delay or anything.”

“Hmmph. As it so happens, I’ll have you know that Val has been doing an excellent job of keeping me company this afternoon.”

“Val?” Noah leaned over the back of the sofa, one eyebrow quirked. He found Peter, clad in cozy pajama pants and an ancient BHSD t-shirt, wrapped up in a thick blanket with the bear Noah had been unable to pass up. Their movie selections for the night ( _Princess Bride_ , _Legend_ , and _Ladyhawke_ ) were already stacked on the coffee table, while a _MacGyver_ rerun played quietly on the TV. “Please tell me you didn’t name him Valentine?”

“Okay first off, you’re one to talk. Really, Noah? A _moon_ bear?”

“He’s even got a natural v-neck. How was I supposed to say no to that?”

“Secondly,” Peter continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “Please. Who do you take me for?” His boyfriend somehow managed to look almost mortally offended despite the smirk trying desperately to break through. “His name is Theodore Percival Bearington III, thank you very much.”

Unapologetically captivated by those sparkling blue eyes, Noah let himself slowly lean in, not even trying to stop his own smile. “The third?”

Peter nodded briefly, amused smile now on full display. “Makes it sound more distinguished, don’t you think?”

“Oh, of course. A perfectly sensible choice.” Before the wolf had a chance to reply, Noah swooped forward to capture those teasing lips in a gentle kiss. He lingered for a bit, letting it help slough off some of the irritations of the day. Once the kiss, eventually, ended, he let his nose nuzzle along the side of Peter’s. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way, they’re lovely.” He gave him another quick peck. “Even if my office will smell like someone spilled a bottle of perfume for the next week.” His boyfriend snorted softly into the next kiss, before pulling back with an impish grin.

“Please tell me you kept the badge.”

Noah shot him an affectionately unimpressed look that did absolutely nothing to dim the wicked light in that sapphire gaze.

“Don’t pretend that wasn’t a cowboy hat I found when you dragged me into helping clean out the garage last weekend. I have _plans_ for those at some point, _Sheriff mine_.” Peter reached up with one hand to grab the front of his shirt and tug him into a heated kiss, tongue flicking playfully alongside Noah’s own. When he was finally allowed up for air, Noah had to rather unsubtly clear his throat before he could speak again.

“So, uh,” another throat clear, “from the looks of things, and the rather familiar taste of chocolate on your tongue, you enjoyed your presents, as well?”

“Mmm, indeed. What exactly happened to not getting each other anything because this is a pointless and purely capitalistic holiday?”

“Oh, I still very much believe that if you need a specific holiday to remind you to do nice things for your significant other, then there’s already serious issues in the relationship.” He laid a series of delicate butterfly kisses along the wolf’s cheekbone as he spoke, before following the line of his jaw back to hover over that smirking mouth, lips tingling faintly from the brush of his scruff. “Guess you’ll just have to resign yourself to getting gifts or special attention whenever the hell I feel like it, then.”

Peter’s smirk widened into a cocky grin. “Well, I suppose sacrifices must sometimes be made in the interest of domestic harmony.” He pressed another sweetly lingering kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Let it never be said that I’m not willing to compromise on occasion.”

Noah snorted as he straightened, one hand coming up to card softly through Peter’s hair. “Speaking of compromise, how about you finally decide where we’re ordering from while I go change?”

Apparently unwilling to let him get too far away yet, the wolf shifted up to kneel on the couch cushion, resting crossed forearms along the back. “In case the smells from the kitchen haven’t already clued you in, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already taken care of dinner.”

“Well, I didn’t want to presume. But I do appreciate it.” He pressed a brief kiss to Peter’s forehead. “So, what _are_ we having?”

“Well, in the interest of making it movie friendly, and since I didn’t particularly feel like going out again, I used the last of your pulled pork and the leftover salsa to make some nachos, and then I threw together some venison and turkey meatballs so that I could at least pretend some of it was slightly healthy. Although stuffing them with cheese may have somewhat defeated that purpose.” He shrugged languidly.

“That sounds absolutely amazing. And you’re complaining to me about going overboard today.” He dipped back down for another kiss, tongue dancing teasingly between his boyfriend’s lips. By the time it ended, the look on Peter’s face was pure smugness.

“And here I haven’t even told you about dessert, yet.”

Noah just raised an eyebrow at him with a _very_ knowing grin curling up one side of his mouth. Peter gave a falsely put-upon sigh.

“For once, you can get your mind out of the gutter-,” the wolf paused to nip sharply at Noah’s bottom lip, “-at least for now.” He flicked his tongue soothingly over the bite, then leaned minutely back. “I may not be _quite_ as skilled at baking as you, but I’m no slouch, either, and it being a bit of a special occasion and all, I decided to indulge.” Peter cut himself off briefly as Noah began nuzzling behind his ear, nibbling at the soft, warm skin. “I- _ah!_ -I made us cinnamon rolls.”

Noah made a faint noise of approval as he continued his attentions, slipping slowly down the curve of Peter’s neck.

“...With bacon in them.”

The rumble that statement pulled from him sent an echoing shiver through Peter. Noah kissed his way back up to his ear.

“Remind me again just who’s being indulged here?”

With a small chuckle, Peter finally reached up with one hand to hold him away slightly, fingers idly toying with the buttons on Noah’s shirt. “Well then, I’ll finish getting those ready while you ...slip into something more comfortable…,” he trailed off with a coquettish wink.

“Always nice to see that your humor can be just as awful as mine.” He gave him one last quick peck. “Back in a minute.” Forcing himself to pull completely away, Noah spun swiftly on his heel and headed off to find some comfy lounge wear of his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where we tumble into the smutty, smutty feels. Enjoy. ;D

Peter smirked softly to himself at a job well done. The food hadn’t even lasted halfway into their first film, and he was fairly certain that only the faintest threads of dignity were keeping Noah from licking the pan that had contained the cinnamon rolls. He’d caught him eyeing it speculatively a couple of times, but he’d been holding out so far. Leaning forward, Peter started to gather the empty dishes, only to find himself pushed back into the sofa.

“Here, I’ve got these. You cooked everything, the least I can do is clean up, right?”

“If you’re insisting, I’m certainly not going to argue,” Peter replied, sprawling back on the cushions and shamelessly enjoying the view as Noah lowered the top of the coffee table back into place and bent to gather everything up. As his boyfriend turned to carry his load to the kitchen, the wolf was supremely thankful for the way the soft gray sweatpants Noah was wearing allowed him to very much continue enjoying the view, as it were. He heard an amused huff as Noah went past.

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you like to think sometimes.”

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be subtle in the least. Such a vision deserves to be openly and enthusiastically appreciated.”

“Uh-huh.” The response was bland, but the swirls of scent coming from Noah’s direction practically glowed with embarrassed pleasure. “If you say so.”

“I very much do say so. Often repeatedly, and occasionally even loudly, to both you and others.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Some of the embarrassment was starting to leak into his tone, almost hidden beneath the fondness.

“You-,” Peter paused, head snapping around to stare at the other man. “...Are you washing those by hand? Right now?” It was clear he was, the sleeves of his loose sweater pushed up above his elbows, hands and wrists flecked with suds.

Noah shrugged. “There were only a couple. The dishwasher is loud and we’re trying to watch something.”

“Dear god, and you call me ridiculous. Leave those for now and get back over here. They’ll be fine.”

Restraining his response to a put-upon sigh and an eye roll, Noah nonetheless rinsed and dried his hands before heading back over to the sofa. Before he could drop down beside him again, Peter reached out and snagged him around the waist, pulling him into his lap. He tucked his face into the bend of his boyfriend’s neck with a happy rumble, wrapping both arms snugly around him to keep him in place. For his part, Noah just sighed again, affectionately this time, curling an arm around Peter’s shoulders for balance and kicking his legs up to lay along the length of the sofa. Ten minutes or so passed in comparative silence, before Noah nudged at the teddy bear, still laying just past the now discarded blanket, with one foot.

“You know, weren’t you just bragging earlier about having a new cuddle buddy?”

Peter, who had been letting the familiar, much-loved lines of the film wash over him while he luxuriated in Noah’s warmth and scent, blinked slowly back to reality. Leaning back, he glanced up with raised eyebrows.

“True. However, while Val is indeed very naturally skilled, he’s still nowhere near as cuddly as you.” He dipped back in to nip gently at the line of Noah’s throat, one hand roaming up under the sweater’s hem to stroke over the soft skin it concealed.

“How flattering.” The tone was wry, but the embarrassed edge to his scent was surging, with wispy, sour undertones appearing that were still a little too muddled for Peter to fully place. He felt the sturdy muscles beneath his hand flexing in an apparent attempt to flatten out the small rolls he’d been happily fondling.

The wolf pondered whether to address the shift in mood or not as he continued to trail kisses up and down the underside of Noah’s jaw, wandering fingers now idly tracing his chimera scar. He knew Noah still suffered from occasional self-image issues, though he was very good at hiding it. Almost a year together, however, and quite a bit of concentrated effort on Peter’s part, had mostly reduced these occurrences to few and far between. He wondered what was causing it now. It seemed unlikely to be anything to do with the holiday itself, given their previous conversations on the subject. Had something else happened that Noah hadn’t mentioned? He decided on a more indirect approach for now, to better gauge the situation.

“Indeed. I have notoriously high standards in all things, after all,” he teased gently, stretching up to press a kiss to Noah’s cheek. His boyfriend snorted softly.

“I know you well enough by now to know that’s not nearly as true as you like to pretend, but the sentiment is appreciated.” The wry tone was still there, but now that he was listening for it, Peter could hear the lightest echoes of strain. He leaned back again and tilted his head at Noah, trying to catch his gaze.

“Everything okay?,” he inquired with a certain tentative concern, hand gripping at the curve of his boyfriend’s hip and thumb stroking softly.

Noah blinked at him, startled, before his expression smoothed out with a forced calm. “Of course.” When he finally let his eyes meet Peter’s, they were as blank as the rest of his face, though his scent still swirled with vague upset. “Why d’you ask?”

“You just seemed a bit… distracted, is all. Just thought I’d check.”

He received a small half-smile as Noah shook his head and shrugged. “I’m fine. Just a bit of a long day is all.”

Peter considered just letting it go, as Noah clearly hoped he would. By now, however, he was more than secure enough in their relationship (due in very large part to the man in his arms) to let his innate tendency to be a bit of an instigator take a more helpful turn. With a small sigh for his interrupted plans (he could watch the movies anytime, his boyfriend clearly needed his attention far more right now), he swept Noah up and flipped them both around so that they were stretched out along the sofa, Peter kneeling between Noah’s spread legs, arms braced above his shoulders. He’d done it so swiftly that Noah hadn’t managed any reaction beyond a startled “oof!” as his back hit the seat cushion. Staring down into deeply bewildered hazel-blue eyes, Peter waited until they focused in on him to speak.

“You know,” he began casually, “you’ve always done an amazing job of being supportive and/or helpful whenever any of my particular issues rear their heads. But you are absolutely _terrible_ at allowing me to do the same for you.”

Those still vaguely stunned eyes widened, the faintest hint of color infusing his cheeks as Noah swallowed. Peter let his words settle for a moment before trying again.

“Now. What’s wrong?”

Noah sighed and rolled his eyes, conveniently breaking the stare down happening between them. His body tensed slightly as he fought an obvious need to fidget. Peter tried to decide if Noah being this unable to hide his discomfort was more of a sign of how bad it was, or of how much he trusted Peter at this point (he knew which he hoped it was, but didn’t dare think about it too closely.) Pointedly not making eye contact, Noah finally blew out a breath.

“It’s stupid.”

“Why not let me be the judge of that?”

“No, it really is stupid. I don’t even know why it’s bothering me. It didn’t at the time. But I keep randomly thinking about it again, and it just grates a little more each time. I think I’m more annoyed at myself for being bothered by it at this point, honestly.”

“And what is the nature of this intrusive thought?”

“I was talking to one of the ladies from the city council earlier, or maybe it’d be more accurate to say I was listening to her drone on about possible fundraisers, and her favorite of them was very obviously having the department do one of those shirtless type calendars like the firefighters tend to do, and apparently having to listen to a solid twenty minutes of her rhapsodizing about all the _‘pretty and fit young deputies you’ve hired lately’_ , with the clear implication that she did not consider me part of that grouping in any way, managed to hit right in the place that likes to remind me just how past my prime I am at this point.” He shrugged haphazardly, still not meeting Peter’s gaze and blush slowly darkening. “Which, obviously I wouldn’t participate anyway, for a wide variety of reasons. But something about her automatic dismissal just sort of got to me a bit, I guess.” He shrugged again. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

Peter considered the various points from that explanation that he wished to address. He finally decided to start with debatably the most important.

“Not even a few tasteful shots, just for me?”

There was a burst of reluctant laughter from his prone boyfriend, a tiny smile peeking through as some of the tension left his frame. Peter took it as a win, even if Noah still wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m completely serious about that, by the way. Also, it bears pointing out that Cecelia Jenkins - because I know that’s who it had to be - has been suggesting that sort of thing for years, to various groups, because she likes to use them to find herself new boy-toys.” Small snickers were shaking their way through the body beneath him. “Not to mention, past your prime? Are you quite serious? You, my love, are aging like a fine Bordeaux. _I_ can certainly appreciate that, even if you can’t.”

There was a soft sigh from Noah, equal parts fond and exasperated. “Peter-”

“Do you have any idea,” he interrupted, leaning in to lay a meandering line of gentle kisses and nips from the point of Noah’s chin down towards his chest, “how frustrating it is to have a gorgeous, sexy boyfriend that flat out refuses to believe you any time you try to tell him how stunning you find him?” He reached the edge of the sweater’s wide, loose collar and nosed his way beneath for a few more biting kisses. “How exquisite?”

“Can’t say that’s ever really been a problem for me, no.” Noah’s voice was strangled and almost sharp, but the tiniest hints of pleasure were beginning to drift into his scent again, so Peter ignored it.

“That’s because I’ve always been very aware of my own aesthetic appeal. Though I do very much appreciate your frequent efforts to remind me of it. I just wish you’d allow me to return the favor.”

Shifting his weight back onto his knees, Peter slipped his hands back beneath the hem of Noah’s sweater (it was technically one of his own, almost criminally soft and bought oversized for sleeping in. He suspected that was why Noah tended to steal it.) He firmly pushed it up and over Noah’s head, pondering for a moment whether to leave it tangled around his wrists, before ultimately deciding that it wouldn’t quite fit the tone he was after. Tugging it free, he tossed it absently towards the coffee table. He swiftly sent his own shirt to follow it, the dog tags he frequently wore when at home jingling faintly as they swung free.

Peter allowed himself a minute to simply enjoy the view, hands coming up to run soothingly up and down the strong, cotton-clad thighs currently bracketing his hips. His eyes roamed over the familiar curves and angles, following the angry twists of scar tissue revealed by the low-slung sweatpants up to where they stretched pale fingers towards the bottom of Noah’s ribs, then along the toned lines of his chest, more visible now with the way his arms were draped up over his head still, fingertips twitching sporadically in the only outward sign of the need to fidget that was so intense Peter could practically taste it. Actually. Tasting sounded like an excellent idea.

He let his hands slide forward, gray fabric shifting beneath them and briefly outlining the half-hard cock his boyfriend seemed determined to ignore, before tracing reverently over the acres of warm skin on display. The wolf dragged his tongue up Noah’s sternum to meet the edges of that spreading blush, hearing and feeling the stuttering breath the other man drew in through his nose. He nuzzled his way through tawny chest hair, sprinkled here and there with flecks of silver, hands roving up and down his sides. When he reached Noah’s armpit he paused to take in a deep lungful of his scent, pleased to find that the sour notes were almost completely gone, and that pleasure and arousal were swiftly overtaking the lingering embarrassment. With infinite care, Peter grazed his teeth along the thin skin, trailing back down along his ribs and shocking a hiss from his boyfriend. His tongue found the almost needle thin seams of the pair of bullet grazes from Noah’s first deployment, that curved around his side high above his hip, the smooth ridges scraping gently against his lips.

He mouthed over the plush softness of his abdomen, the layer of extra cushioning less pronounced than it used to be now that Peter was there to help enforce healthier eating habits, but still present. Which was fine with Peter, frankly, even if Noah was often less than pleased. In his opinion, it only served to enhance his boyfriend’s inherent cuddliness, and was (not-so-)secretly one of his favorite places to hide on days where everything just got to be a bit too much. (Besides, he quite liked spoiling Noah with rich, indulgent foods on occasion. His more primal side got to enjoy proving itself a provider, Noah got to enjoy a delicious treat, and he got to enjoy Noah’s happiness. Win-win for everyone, really.) Letting his hands drift up to brush teasingly over his nipples, nails scratching lightly along Noah’s skin, Peter bit down gently but steadily on his mouthful of flesh, applying just enough suction to leave a bruise that would last a while. That achieved, he slid a couple of inches lower and repeated the procedure, drinking in the shuddering breaths and ragged groans he’d been pulling from the other man.

He felt the now fully hard length of Noah’s cock pressing hotly against his shoulder, a tiny damp spot already growing on the front of his sweatpants. Tucking his fingers into the waistband, Peter paused for a moment in question, tongue flicking briefly into the nearby bellybutton. With another trembling inhale, Noah’s hips hitched up to allow Peter to tug his pants far enough down to free his cock. It bounced free, waving gently in time with the thrumming pulse running through the veins. The wolf fought a smug smirk as he breathed a soft stream of air across it and saw another drop of pearly liquid appear at the tip, then start to slowly slip down the velvety skin, a stuttered gasp echoing down from above. Peter buried his face near the base of Noah’s cock, taking in another deep breath to let the mouth-watering scents fuel his own surging arousal.

He laved his way up Noah’s cock, licking up as much of the leaking fluid as he could and letting the flavor burst across his tongue. With a pleased rumble he wrapped his lips around the reddened head, suckling gently for a few seconds before sinking down as far as he could go, one hand steadying the base. As he drew back up, he hollowed his cheeks and let his tongue dance along the delicate tracery of veins beneath the heated skin, his other hand coming up to cradle his balls, rolling them lightly in his palm. He briefly lamented the somewhat restricted access he currently had to the rest of Noah, but accepted it as an excuse to try for a repeat later on. Reaching the tip, he bobbed his head back down, happily setting up a slow, easy rhythm as he listened to Noah panting and moaning above him. God but he loved Noah’s cock. Maybe slightly above average in length, and just thick enough to leave him feeling deliciously full. To say nothing of his skills at using it. Peter hummed around his mouthful as pleasure crackled along his nerves in remembrance.

A broken whimper of his name drew his attention upward, cock sliding from his lips with a soft _pop_ , and he saw that Noah had one hand twisted tightly into the knitted blanket, his other arm thrown over his face, hiding his eyes from view, gilded hair a tousled mess from the sofa cushion. His lips were rosy and damp from where he’d been biting them to try and contain his cries, the bright blush running from the tips of his ears to the swell of his pecs contrasting adorably with his lightly tanned skin.

“Beautiful…” Peter whispered softly into the damp skin near his lips. A nearly inaudible protesting scoff had him moving back up his boyfriend’s torso, dropping random licks and nips as he went. He left Noah’s arm where it was for now, but dropped a feather soft kiss to those bitten lips, nibbling delicately at them as Noah gulped down a calming breath. Peter nosed soothingly along his cheekbone as he continued his litany of praise.

“But you are. Alluring. Radiant. And so delightfully cozy in all the very best ways-,” he stroked a tender hand along the bite marks he’d left along Noah’s waistline, “-and so wonderfully solid in all the ways that matter.” He bit sharply at the thick muscle of Noah’s bicep, hand coming up to flatten almost protectively over that thundering heart.

Peter ran his lips along the small, faded mark from where the Darach had stabbed Noah when kidnapping him as a sacrifice, hand now tracing carefully along the jagged scar that curled from his shoulder down under the line of his collarbone. (That one had a tendency to cause a dull rage to simmer in his veins. If Noah hadn’t specifically forbidden it when he’d first explained where the scar came from, Peter would have already gone to have a ‘chat’ with Elias.)

“And your scars are nothing more than reminders of times when life tried to knock you down, and you defiantly refused to move. They are the marks of a survivor, and that is something I can always respect, my own somewhat specialized abilities on the matter aside. As someone with a rather vested interest in your continued survival, in particular, and having had some rather extreme experiences in the subject myself, how could I ever judge or dislike them?”

Peter shifted his weight, spreading his knees a little for balance as he reached down to silently lower his own clothing, listening to Noah’s hitching breaths as he fought to control the surging waves of emotion the wolf could smell wafting off of him. He choked back a noise of his own as the room’s cool air hit his newly exposed skin, leaning up to brace his forearms alongside Noah’s head and finally tugging his boyfriend’s arm away from his face to meet his eyes. Those swirling sea glass colors were now just a thin ring around heavily blown pupils ( _“Eyes like the sea after a storm”, indeed, he thought irreverently_.) Noah’s eyes were red-rimmed and shining, moisture sparkling in those surprisingly full lashes, though the skin around them was dry. Holding that heavy-lidded gaze, Peter offered up his own confession of vulnerability in exchange.

“When I’m wrapped up in you, I feel safer than I would have ever thought it possible for me to feel again. Something that can grant me that? How could I ever find it anything less than beautiful?”

Noah swallowed roughly. His eyes stared into Peter’s with an almost laser-like intensity for a moment, before his hands came down to cup his face, thumbs arcing in tender strokes along the wolf’s cheekbones. With a sure, (mostly) steady grip, he pulled Peter down into a languid, searching kiss that warmed him all the way down to his toes. Peter moaned softly, body slowly collapsing onto Noah’s, their cocks grinding smoothly against each other as they ended up pressed together from shoulders to hips. Noah clamped his thighs tightly around Peter’s to hold him in place, and Peter’s moans ratcheted up to desperate whines at all the glorious skin-to-skin contact.

Sliding his hands back, Noah wove his fingers through Peter’s hair and tugged firmly, tilting his head back and deepening their kiss. Peter let loose a harsh growl, one arm coming down to curl underneath Noah’s back, nails digging securely into his shoulder; the other wedging itself between their languorously rolling hips so he could wrap both their cocks in a tight grip. Noah gave a sharp thrust at the sudden increase in pressure, a muttered expletive tumbling from those kiss-swollen lips. Peter felt another smug grin spread across his face. Noah’s eyes narrowed even as his pupils widened, hands slipping from Peter’s hair to drag his nails intently down either side of his spine. Peter arched with a groan, feeling Noah’s hands cup his ass with an affectionate squeeze before they began trying to speed up his rhythm, his thighs gripping Peter’s like a vise. Harsh gasps and rumbling groans filled the air between them.

A short, blissful while later, Peter felt a hand leave his ass and join his own on their cocks, capable fingers teasing at the edges of Peter’s foreskin. A broken keen spilled from his throat at the sensation, fireworks lighting up his nerve endings as his rapidly stroking hand continued to provide the most divine friction. Noah’s other hand finally slid up to grip at Peter’s upper back, holding him as close as he could. His voice was a tremulous whisper.

“C-c-close”

Peter let out a breathless huff of amusement. “S-same.”

He tucked his face back into the base of Noah’s neck, breathing his fill of that beloved scent, letting it start to overtake his senses. The wolf licked his way over to the scar that curled over his shoulder, and ever so delicately and carefully closed his teeth around the very top of it, digging them possessively into the very outer edges of the scar tissue. With a ragged cry, Noah tossed his head back, arms snapping up to draw Peter into a crushing embrace as he tensed and arched, wet warmth splashing over Peter’s hand and wrist. As Noah ever so slowly began to come down from his high, Peter felt his own orgasm tightening in his belly and sizzling along his nerves, fueled by the luscious scents of sex and satisfaction and hazy ecstasy, so strong he could almost taste them in the air, and the absolutely perfect pressure of the arms wrapped around him. A trembling exhale of Noah’s name flowed from his panting lips as sparks flashed fierce and luminous behind his eyelids, and overwhelming pleasure broke over him like a wave.

Once Peter’s brain decided to start coming back online and allowing him to focus, he found that Noah’s arms were still around him, one hand gliding up and down his back in a gentle caress. With a rumble that was bordering on an outright purr, he nuzzled contentedly into the hinge of Noah’s jaw, come covered hand hanging awkwardly off the sofa to try and avoid stains, the other running admiringly over the muscles of his boyfriend’s upper arm. Noah tilted his head to draw him into series of lazy, soothing kisses as they rode out their afterglow. Eventually, Peter pulled away to meet Noah’s eyes, relishing in the mellow joy reflected there. He hummed happily.

“Feeling better?”

A bright grin flashed across Noah’s face. “That would certainly be one word for it.”

“And are you going to listen to me in the future when I tell you how devastatingly attractive you are?” Peter finally managed to snag his t-shirt off the coffee table along with what was left of his bottle of water, using them to clean the worst of the mess from his hand and their bodies. He dropped it carelessly to the floor and raised an eyebrow at his silent and not _quite_ squirming boyfriend. “Noah?” His tone was extremely pointed.

“Brat.” Noah gave in with a sigh. “I can accept that you believe that. I’ll work on being able to do the same.” He raised his eyebrows at Peter with a sassily challenging look. “Will that do for now?”

Peter heaved a put-upon sigh as he finished straightening (what was left of) their clothes and dropped back into Noah’s embrace. “I suppose it’ll have to. After all, that gives me an excuse to stage a replay if I decide the message hasn’t properly sunk in.”

“Oh joy.”

“And perhaps next time I can get you spread out on a bed so that I can properly appreciate _all_ of you.”

“Uh-huh.” His falsely unenthusiastic responses couldn’t hide the way his pupils flared, or the interest in his scent.

“If you don’t believe I will, you are more than welcome to test your theory.” Peter’s tone was as cocky as his smirk. He snuggled down into Noah’s chest and glanced at the TV, only to stare in shock at the cycling menu screen. He hadn’t realized quite how much time had passed. A faint twitch alerted him to Noah making the same discovery.

“Huh. Didn’t realize it’d gotten so late. Do you want to start this one again, or just move on to _Legend_?”

“As much as I look forward to arguing with you about fantasy costumes again, I don’t know that I have the energy to get up and change the disc right now.”

Noah snickered lightly. “Well, if you think you can stir yourself long enough, it feels worth pointing out that there’s also a Blu-ray player hooked to the TV in the bedroom. We could sprawl out on something more comfortable than the couch.” He pressed a soft peck to Peter’s temple. “And for the last time you would look much better in that tunic and armor, you almost even have the hair for it.”

“Ooh, that is a lovely idea. I do like the way you think sometimes. Although I’m not lying on the couch, I’m lying on you, and you are wonderfully comfortable.” He shot his boyfriend a leer. “And if you don’t think you have the legs for that outfit, you are very sorely mistaken. Besides,” he shrugged, “we both know I would absolutely rock Lily’s evil dress.” His grin turned almost taunting. “And I’ve seen a few pictures that would imply you could rather pull off that hairstyle as well.”

“Of course you would. And you know what, I don’t even want to know how or why you acquired said pictures. None of the possibilities bear thinking about. Here,” he raised them both upright, blithely ignoring Peter’s pout, and stood, swaying a moment as he regained his balance, “why don’t I grab the films, and you take Val.” He gently picked up the bear and handed him to Peter. “He can hang out in that fancy armchair of yours.”

“That is an original Eames chair, you heathen.” He cuddled the bear close. “And he would look excellent there.”

Noah just smiled at him as he picked up the cases from the table, walking back over to pull him into yet another sweetly lingering kiss. As it ended, Peter stepped back, trailing his hand down Noah’s arm to twine their fingers together and start tugging him towards the bedroom. Right as they reached the hall, he threw a wink over his shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, handsome.”

Noah’s sigh was full of affection and love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Peter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from 'Teddy Bear', by Elvis Presley, because I just couldn't help myself.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my terrible jokes, and the copious amounts of Noah appreciation. Apparently I had some opinions about that (and the fandom could always use more of it anyway.)
> 
> Please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes or missing tags, it's like two in the morning right now so I might not be paying the best attention at this point.
> 
> Comments and feedback are very much welcome! :D


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